Biggie the Blanket

This is getting to be a little ridiculous: Biggie's so paranoid that he refuses to give out his phone number, even to family. OK, so that's been going on for awhile, but now Fearless Taco told me last night that Dave told him, if there's an emergency with Mother, to "call [his] lawyer". I'm afraid that the dread Blanket-man has totally lost it. We need to get him into the Hotel Gonzo, but how? Only if he's cured will his spirit's future level ever brighten -- & he's going to have to lose the skinny dog first. Fuck herbs. I'll keep on taking my "experimental addictive antidepressants". I'm sure her family has the phone number. He's so obviously paranoid & it should never have come to this.

Yesterday we both went to the Layout, where Mary was watching a movie. After Trish left for the incredible Pizza I was about to leave, when Cheri told me we were having CHINESE -- I wonder what Joey would've thought? She's so popular. Then when I came home Car-girl called & asked to move our TA to 2:00. She was in a pissy mood about her cats having been kidnapped 2 years ago. I played around with Joshua for a bit, then read Jung, rather than tormenting my typewriter. We picked Trish up & went to Bi-Mart to pick up a shelf for Trish's movies in the basement. It cost 25 buckadingdongs. Plus we got a cold-pac of Mr. Fruity & some Rice-a-Roni.

When we came home Trish played Penguins for awhile, then we went to El Taco Loco for supper. I'd brought her a plate of Cheri's cooking for lunch. When we came home we watched Who Framed Roger Rabbit? & then John returned my call. The thing with Dave is really getting to be ridiculous.